Polaroid from the metropolis – House of Shields

“Time Stands Still at the House of Shields” blared the headline of a yellowed clipping from San Francisco Chronicle columnist Charles McCabe that used to be Scotched-taped in the window of the venerable bar on New Montgomery. Although the House of Shields just reopened after a months-long renovation, this is certainly true at least as far as the decor. The tile floor, heavy wood paneling, game trophies, carved wooden booths and Victorian statuary–to say nothing of the famous oak bar–all belong to a turn-of-the-(twentieth)-century aesthetic. In fact, the saloon was the last in San Francisco to place stools along the brass foot rail (in 1986), displacing spittoons in the process. And if that doesn’t invest the place with enough of a storied past for you, the basement, which houses a private dining room and wine cellar, was once a speakeasy.

The origins of the bar are a little murky. Some say it was opened in 1910–others say 1908–by a man named Eddie Shields. (Still others explain the name by suggesting the establishment was opened by an Irishman who liked to collect shields.) Its trademark wooden bar was originally intended to go in the Pied Piper room of the Palace Hotel across the street, but was apparently sold to Shields when installation of Maxfield Parrish’s seven-by-sixteen foot painting of the Piper did not leave enough space.

Innumerable stories have been have been told in and about the establishment over the years. To listen to one, follow this link to the KQED excerpt of Candy from Strangers, in which jazz bassist August Riordan’s gig at the bar doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Mark Coggins

Bar Light, House of Shields

For earlier photographs in the “Polaroid from the Metropolis” series, follow these links: 1, 2, 3.